A KNIGHT AND A LADY. 



BT 



F. J. SEYBOLD. 



Copyrighted, 1880, by F. J. Seybold. Right of translation 
and all other rights reserved. 




Address, 

F. J. SEYBOLD, 

P. O. Box 3470, New York City, NY. 



21 



^a <3 



cSW 



A KNIGHT AO A LADY. 



DRAMATIS PERSONS. 

Kit Carson, guide, friend and companion of General John C. Fremont. 
John Corbin, a New York banker, with his daughter on a tour through 

the Sierra Nevadas. 
Helen Corbin, John Corbin's daughter, a beautiful girl of twenty-two 
Agnes Lkvannion, deserted wife of James Ransome. 
James Ransome, millionaire bankrupt, cattle king of the Sierras, and 

proprietor of a ranch, sixty miles square, bought with his 

deserted wife's money. 
Greatheart Hopeful, a man of large imagination, a geologist and a 

bonanza hunter. 
Sandeval, a Mexican ; the robber of the pines. % 

Michael O'Shaughnessy, Irish servant of John Corbin. 
Minister, played by Ransome. 



ACT I. 

[ [Scene : Headicaters of the Grand Caflon of the Colorado. 

Enter Mike, a little in advance of Helen and Corbin. 

Mike. And be the bloody pipers of Ballymaloch, I'm 
kilt entirely, musclila, musclila ; may the divil blow the day 
I ever left the ould sod — the land of milk and honey — the 
land where pertaties are as big as drums, and the chickens 
walk into the spit and cook themselves to your bidding* — to 
come to a bloody barren waste like this same, where the 
divil a crature do you see at all at all but the thaving spal 
peens of robbers, and they call 'em ' 'rood agents/' I'd a better ■ 
staid in the East and taken a position on the Erie Canawl, 
where me brother writes me he is conductor of forces, 
mules he calls 'em, and that he has taken unto himself a 
wife, a nice American lady, and she is a sa-cook on a canawl 
boat, and they call her a " nagar." Had it not been for me 
own valiant right arm and me darlint sprig of a shillalah — 
Mess the heart of the dear ould sthick, that I brought from 
the downs of Killarney ! — divil asowl of us would have been 
left to wander among the rocks forninst us. I'm thinking 
I kilt fifty or sixty of the gentlemen myself, besides them 
as was kilt by the long-haired divil we never saw after- 
wards. 



2 A KNIGHT AND A LADY. 

Corlin. Mike, we can go no farther ; Helen must be ex- 
hausted with fatigue, hunger and terror ; I myself am un- 
able to proceed further. Get some dry sticks if you can 
find them ; we will do without a fire no longer in this bitter 
cold and dismal place ; night is coming on, and better the 
Indians than death by cold. While you get wood and build 
a fire, I Avill look into the canon and see if there are any 
signs of game. Death by starvation stares us in the face. 

Mike. All right, I'll get some sthicks and have a fire in a 
jiffy. [Exit 

Corlin. Helen, my child, cheer up, we will have a fire and 
be warm at all hazards. If we can live till morning, we 
will descend to the bed of that canon, and may find some 
trail there that will lead us to some trapper's hut or miner's 
camp. 

Helen. Don't worry about me, dear father. My young 
and supple frame is better able to bear this terrible fatigue 
than your weakened constitution. We'll get warm and rest 
till morning, and I am sure all will be right to-morrow. 

Corbin. Sit down and rest, baby, I'll not be gone long. 
Good-bye, darling. [Kisses her. Exit. 

Helen, left alone, mechanically ascends a sloping rock that 
shuts out from her mew the grand mountain scenery that is 
all the time visible to the audience, and the magnificent view 
bursts upon her sight.] 

Helen. Oh glorious, glorious mountains ! how grand and 
great you are S How small and insignificant I am ! How 
you tower above the clouds to heaven's dome itself! how 
your grandeur lifts me out of self and calls my soul to 
worship ! how content I am to die beneath your heaven- 
towering peaks ! Oh God, I thank thee for this beautiful, 
glorious sight ! 

[Sits down on the rock, with her side to the audience, and gazes 
in admiration at the mountains, lost in meditation. Kit 
Carson appears high up the mountains, and wends his way 
down, unseen by Helen, till he touches her on the shoulder t 
lohen she springs to her feet.] 

Oh ! clear sir, how you frightened me ! You will not harm 
me ? Oh, I see you are the one who saved us from the " road 
agents," when we got lost in the darkness, and never saw 
you afterwards. 

Kit Carson. Harm you, dear lady ? Ask me not to harm 
the apple of my eye ! Yes, I followed the cussed .varmints 
till I wiped out all but a few of them, and then turned 
back to look for the passengers, and here I find one of them. 
Are you all alone ? How did you get here ? 



A KNIGHF AND A LADY. 3 

Helen. No, not alone ; father and Mike are witli me. 
Father has gone to see if he can find some game, and Mike 
is hunting wood for a fire. I was lost in the beauty of the 
glorious mountains — the grand old majestic snow-capped 
peaks. 

[Mike appears in the bach-ground, with a load of sticks. See- 
ing Kit, he stops short, falls on Ids knees, lifts Ms hands in 
terror, and crosses himself ostentatiously .] 

Mike. Holy Virgin, pertect us ! It is a hingin ! Holy 
saints of Saint Catharine, save me this time, anddivil a drop 
of the crature will I ever touch again, and divil a lie will I 
ever tell again, and divil the sin will I ever commit any 
more, and divil the head more will I ever crack with me 
darlin' sprig. {Recognizes Kit as the man who fought the 
road agents ; changes expression.] May I hope never again 
to set eyes on the blessed pipers of Ballymaloch if it isn't 
his blessed self ! Heaven forfend his holy nibs, that helped 
me kill them divils of murdering rood agents. [Rises and 
advances towards Kit and Helen.] And may the holy and 
blessed pipers of Ballymaloch play your wedding-march, 
your honor, the jintl eman that helped me kill the murder- 
ing divils that attacked the stage. I thought yees were one 
of them rid ingins I hear 'em tell of, bad cess to 'em. I 
was jist drawing a bade on yer with my sprig, when I dis- 
covered me fault — jist in time to save yer blessed life. How 
I'd like to mate a hundred of the cowardly divils ; I'd scat- 
ter them like the wind with my sprig. [ Wamng his shil- 
lalah.] 

Kit. You'll meet them before you know it, if you go 
prowling around these parts very long. What Lave you 
got there? Dry wood? Now for a fire. [Strikes a flint, 
lights fire, and piles on wood.] Ah! that will warm and 
cheer. How much comfort a little spark can bring ! how 
much joy a little flame can kindle ! 

Helen. Yes, in the material world, that is true. In the 
world of mind and thought the truth is greater still. A 
little spark from the hard and obdurate flint falling on the 
tinder makes this cheering blaze. A little spark of kind- 
ness falling on a warm and tender heart creates the genial 
glow of friendship. 

Kit. And, lady, friendship often grows to love. But 
sometimes love precedes it. 

Helen. Yes, so a poet somewhere says. 

Mike. And sure it's true then. I know it from me own 
swate experience. I had it once mesilf in the ould country, 
town of Kildown, but she died. [ With a sigh] Ah ! musch- 
la, muschla. 



4 A KNIGHT AND A LADY. 

Enter Corbin. Seeing Kit he starts and raises his gun. 
Helen steps forward to the rescue. 

Helen. Father, don't shoot ! it is a friend, the one who 
saved us from the road agents. 

Mike. Hould ! liould ! It's the long-haired scout that 
helped me scatter them divils of rood 'gints. I made the 
same mistake myself, and was just drawing a bade on him 
with me sprig, when I discovered me error. 

Corbifi. So it is ! Welcome ! Gratitude ! We thank you 
as our deliverer. 

Kit. Don't mention it ; I fight them ar varmints on prin- 
ciple. Between them and me there exists 'an eternal war, 
which only the death of one side or the other can ever 
end. 

Corbin. I fear we have escaped the robbers only to die of 
hunger — nothing to eat for two days. 

Kit. I must consult my commissary department at once. 
[Takes animal from bag.] Shot this in the mountains ; we'll 
have supper in a twinkling. [Proceeds to skin animal and 
put it on the fire.'] This is not quail on toast, but it will 
taste as sweet in your present state of appetite. 

Mike. May the blessed and beautiful pipers of Bally- 
maloch play the saints' rist at your funeral — but you are a 
cherub ; may the holy saints of Killarney forfend the day 
that iver a hair of your head comes to harm, 

Corbin. Indeed, we owe you our very lives ; our gratitude 
will live with you forever. 

Helen. [Giving her hand] How can we ever express our 
overwhelming gratitude ? 

Kit. Don't mention it, lady. Try a piece of this game ; 
it will give you strength to get to Ransome's Ranch, down 
the canon a little further. 

Corbin. ' ' Ransome's Ranch ? " Why, there is where we 
we're going ! 

Kit. Well, we are within five miles of it. 

Corbin. Heaven be praised ! 

Mike. Bless the holy pipers of Baliymaloch ! 

Helen. You are indeed our deliverer in everything. 

Kit. Don't mention it ; eat and be happy. Excuse me, 
I'll look around and take our latitude and longitude. 

[Exit. 

Mike. Be the cabby's own, and is he an astronomer too — 
a gentleman of unlimited versatility? 

Corbin. No, he means he will simply take the lay of the 
country. We owe him much. 

Helen. [Her face lighted with a strange new light] Indeed 
we do, father. He is as noble and good as he is handsome. 



A KNIGHT AND A LADY. 5 

Enter Ransome. 

Ransome. Hallo ! Who have we here ? Corbin, my old 
friend, Corbin ! as I live. 

Corbin. James Ransome, my old friend ! [Shake hands 
and salute heartily.'] This is my daughter Helen, my dear 
Ransome. [Ransome courteously welcomes Helen, shaking 
her hand, etc.] Most happy to see your sunny presence in 
our wild mountain land. I hope its novelty and romance 
will give you pleasure, till its grandeur makes you a pris- 
oner for life. 

Mike. [Aside] Be the powers, he's a beautiful talker sure, 
a gintleman and a scholar — and if report don't belie him, he 
has a small bit of a pertatie patch down the gaily some- 
where, 

Helen. I am sure it will, sir, I am entranced already, ut- 
terly, even at death's door, as we have been the last day or 
two. But I have felt it were glorious to die beneath the 
shadow of those glittering snow-capped domes. 

Ransome. How came you all here away from the trails 
and passes, wandering among these rocks and cliffs ? 

Corbin. We were attacked by robbers two days ago, our 
stage robbed, horses, driver, and all, so far as we know, 
killed, but us alone. In the darkness we escaped, or rather 
were lost sight of. Some of the passengers and a scout fought 
and pursued the robbers, and we never saw any of them 
afterward, but the scout, who unexpectedly appeared a short 
time ago, having followed our trail. He made us this fire 
and gave us this food, and has but just now stepped aside. 

[Enter Kit. Kit and Ransome recognize each other with 
surprise ; Ransome notices that Kit's eyes seek Helen and 
Helen's Kit, and a strange light in the face of each.] 

Kit. What ! Jim Ransome ! 

Ransome. What ! Kit Carson ! 

Corbin. So you know each other ? 

Kit. Yes, I know him. 

Ransome. Yes, and I want no further acquaintance. 

Corbin. [Surprised and agitated] Why, dear friend, he 
has done us an inestimable service — no less than given us 
our very lives. 

Ransome. That entitles him at least to your thanks, but 

you do not need him further now, as my ranch is but five 

miles from here. You can almost see it from this point. 

[Ransome and Corbin step away from the others. 

Kit. [Aside] I am not so sure they will not need me more 
than ever before. At any rate, I'll keep my eyes on the var- 
mint, and see that no harm comes to her. [Inclining his 



6 A KNIGHT AND A LADY. 

head towards Helen. To Helen aloud'] You are feeling more 
comfortable now, are you not? 

Helen. Yes, thanks to your kindness. After all that may 
be said, food and fire are two great ingredients in human 
happiness. 

Mike. [To Kit] An' plaze your worship, and could I be 
consulting yourself about some matters of common interest 
to the entire community ? [Exeunt Mike and Kit. Helen 
strolls off in a different direction.] 

Corbin. Well, my old friend, how glad I am to see you, and 
to find ourselves safe and at our journey's end for a while. 
My heart has bled at the sufferings of my noble daughter 
Helen, who has proved herself many times a heroine. 

Man some. It makes my heart glad to welcome so beauti- 
ful a being to my country, her future home. 

Corbin. It tears my old heart-strings, dear Ransome, to 
share her thoughts and love with another, but, in the nature 
of things, it must come some day, and it is the duty of a 
good father, before he dies, to provide for his daughter a 
husband, whom he knows to be a gentleman and a man of 
wide culture — especially one who can place his wife in luxury 
and position, and so I bring you my own Helen, that I may 
see her settled happily for life before I am gathered to my 
fathers. 

Mansome. I cannot express my gratitude, my dear friend 
Corbin, but will try to prove it by being a good and noble 
husband to your daughter, and a careful, kind son to your- 
self. I'll try to live a gratitude I cannot express. But now 
we must proceed at once on our way to my home, and re- 
cuperate awhile on our glorious mountain air and generous 
healthful food, before our contemplated journey to that 
loveliest spot on earth, the " Garden of the Gods." 

Corbin. Kind and thoughtful sir, indeed, we thank you. 
Ah, here comes Helen. [Enter Helen.] May we be par- 
doned, my friend, while I consult apart a moment with my 
daughter? 

Mansome. Certainly, sir, certainly, as a matter of course. 
[Helen and father stroll away out of sight, talking. Man- 
some t aside] Damn that scout ! I must dispose of him. 
[Mike, at one side, visible to audience, but invisible to Man- 
some, overhears him.] How unfortunate that he turned up 
just now. My friend Sandeval must forever silence him. 
Sandeval is to meet me at Pueblo on my way to the Garden 
of the Gods, and then I'll contract for the disposal of tlie 
scout. 

Mike. [Aside] Well, may the cerulean blue of the starry 
hivens fall forninst me, if the murdering thafe isn't plot- 



A KNIGHT AND A LADY. 7 

ting to murther somebody, and it's me friend, tlie long- 
haired scout, that assisted me to disperse the blackguard 
rood agents. May the holy pipers of Ballymaloch for fend 
him, and forever wither the crawling spalpeen forninst me.; 
Muschla ! muschla ! But be the holy and riverintial mem- 
ory of Saint Catharine, but I'll kape the agle eye of the 
honorable Michael O'Shaughnessy on top of the treacher- 
ous divil, and may thim howlin' , divils of rood 'gints take 
the hindmost one of the two of us. 

Enter Kit. 

Kit. Night is coming on. It is time to seek a shelter, or 
prepare one here, for this lady and her white-haired father. 

Ransome. We are just starting for my ranch ; and we 
do not need the services or the advice of Kit Carson ! 

Kit. Possibly you may not. But I cannot say as much 
for the helpless ones in your power. They need the ser- 
vices of some strong arm, if they ever wish to step outside 
of these mountain passes again. 

Ransome. What do you mean ? Do you wish to insinuate 
— do you mean to insult me ? 

Kit. Call it insult if you will — I mean what I say. 

Ransome. Then you must eat your words, or back them 
with your life ! 

Kit. As you will. I always speak the truth, I never take 
it back. 

Ransome. Then prepare for a final settlement. It must 
come sooner or later, and better now than later. 

Kit. I have no preparation to make ; I do not want your 
life, nor wish to give you mine. 

Ransome. One or the other you must do. None but a 
coward can refuse. Throw for first shot. 

Kit. I will not throw. Human life, even of a knave, is 
too valuable to be bartered on a throw. 

Ransome. Here it is then. [Throtcs, and wins first shot.} 
My shot ! 

Kit. Remember, if you miss, my aim is death ! 

Ransome. Yes, but I'll not miss ! [Shoots and misses.] 

Mike. Whoopla ! But yees are safe, Mr. Carson. 

Kit. It is my turn now. Take your life! I would not 
stain my hands with the blood of so vile a wretch. [Show- 
ing a coin] Let that coin represent your life, and see how 
much it would be worth, even less than the denomination. 
on its face. Here, Mike, hold it up on the end of your 
sprig*. 

Mike. And divil the haper will I thin. Is it being kilt 
yees want me to be, sure ? And it's suicide Til not be com- 



8 A KNIGHT AND A LADY. 

mitting ony day on mesilf at any rate. Let the other gintle- 
min liould it, sure. 

Kit. I'll set it up against this tree. [Sets it up and shoots 
a hole through it.] 

Enter Corbin and Helen, excited. 

Gorbin. What is this shooting ? 

Kit. Oh, only a little rifle practice, to keep our hand in. 
Just shooting at a coin. [Shows coin icith hole in it. 

Helen. Oh, I feared it were something terrible ! My 
heart stood still ; how greatly am I relieved. 

Corbin. Now we are ready to start to Mr. E an some's 
ranch. Mr. Carson, my daughter and myself would take 
great pleasure in having you accompany us. 

Helen. Assuredly so, Mr. [Blushes] Carson. No pleasure 
could be greater. [Kit blushes, Ransome scowls, and Mike 
gives a knowing, significant jerk of the head.] 

Mike. Be the sowl of the blessed pipers of Ballymaloch 
for you to come with us would bring more happiness to our 
hearts than was ever brought to the heart of a bye of Kil- 
larney by a bit of a scrimmage. 

Kit. Thanks for your kindness, but I will camp here- 
abouts for a while. Kit Carson is at home wherever canon 
winds or mountain towers. I'll turn in here among these 
cliffs and crags, and so good-bye to you. [^4s^] And I will 
not lose sight of Jim Ransome, or her. [Glancing towards 
Helen. Shakes hands all round, except with Ransome, and 
exit.] 

Mike. May the saints pertect yees. 

Ransome. [Aside] A good riddance for the present, but 
he will give me much trouble if not disposed of. [Aloud] 
I'll bring my horse up nearer, and we'll at once be off for 
my ranch. [Exeimt Ransome and Gorbin, 

Mike. [ Walking off and talking to himself] Be the howly 
mimory of Saint Theresa, but it's a foine man that same 
Carson is, but the other divil will be honored with the con- 
stant eye of his honor, the honorable Michael O'Shaugh- 
nessy, and may his honor, the honorable Michael O'Shaugh- 
nessy never set his delicate fut on the virgin soil of old 
Erin, in the county of Killarney, town of Killdown, if the 
gintleman of the ranch don't find hissilf found out. 

[Helen alone. Mike behind a rock on left, regarding her, Kit 
behind rock on right regarding her. Helen abstractedly 
looks in the direction her father and Ransome have gone, 
sighs, and turns, and faces the mountains.] 

Helen. What is this pain that gnaws my heart? this joy 



A KNIGHT AND A LADY. 9 

that thrills and warms ? It cannot be love, for love is love, 
and love is happy, holy joy. Can it be true, as I once read, 
that in an intense nature love gives more pain than plea- 
sure? That it is only in light and shallow minds that it 
ripples, leaps and bubbles ; and appears in smiles, blushes, 
and brightness, and flashes cut sentiment and fancy, while 
in deep and fervent souls it goes to the very center, and 
calls the heart into itself — that it swells and throbs, and 
beats and pains, and if not allowed to go out to the object 
of its devotion, or if, going out, is repulsed, or not recipro- 
cated, it bursts and destroys ? Oh ! is this nature mine, and 
is this love that has taken possession of me, and does to lorn 
mean to suffer f Oh, that he were mine ! I would give my 
soul to this man, but I would want his in return. To give 
all without getting in return does not satisfy my longing. 
Does he love me? Does his soul go out to me? How fool- 
ish the question ! He has seen me but a few moments ; how 
could he know or love me in that time ? But I love him in 
this short time — yes, in a thousandth part of the time. The 
first moment I saw his majestic form at my side, my soul 
went out to him ; my heart bowed to him a captive. [ Takes 
a seat on a rock.] Oh, if I only could know his heart — his 
thoughts ! Oh, does he love me? [A pause.] But time 
alone can answer that question, as it does many others in 
life. I must wait till time shall prove it — must watch and 
wait, wait — ah, the strength needed to wait, the self-control, 
the patience required to do that hardest thing in life — wait. 
It is most difficult in common things. It requires super- 
human power in love. [Rises.] And if I wait, what then? 
And if he loves me, what then? Oh, the misery, the untold 
agony in store for me, for him, for father. Oh, father, why 
did you promise me to this man for his wife because he had 
broad lands, and cattle on a thousand hills ? It is a heart I 
want, not lands and herds. Oh, I can never, never marry 
this man. The other has no lands or wealth, and is a stran- 
ger ; father will reject him with scorn. Even if he had 
wealth and culture, father would never receive as his son a 
stranger. But he has my heart and love. Aye, he is my 
idol and my god ! 

[Enter, unseen by Helen, in the left foreground, Cokbin and 
Ran some, and overhear eagerly the follomng words of 
Helen. Mike and Kit also bend forward in hearing, mak- 
ing in all an intense tableau. Helen continues :] 

I have always tried to be a dutiful daughter ; father may 
command me to give up the one and marry the other; duty 
to my dear, kind old father may make me wait and watch, 



10 A KNIGHT AND A LADY. 

and hope for the one, but cannot force me to marry the 
other. Father and filial duty may say whom I shall not 
marry, but whom I shall marry, none but my heart and my 
God shall say, never, never ! [All step forward, intently 
gazing on Helen. Tableau. Curtain.'] 



ACT II. 

Scene : Magnificently furnished parlor in a hotel in Pueblo, 
opening upon a veranda and looking out upon the moun- 
tains. 

Enter Mike, looking around. 

Mike. May my former bosom friends, the holy pipers of 
Bally maloch, never blow another svvate note on their tin 
horns, if his honor, the honorable Michael O'Shauglmessy, 
isn't glad to get out of the ravines (they calls 'em cannons) 
and hills (they calls 'em mountains), into a town withstrates 
and saloons, where yees can get a drop of the blissed cra- 
tyure. Ah, me darlint ! [ Takes a swig and smacks his lips.] 
Yees does me honest heart good ; many's the long days I've 
been sighing for yees ; come to me arms, me darlint. Yer 
breath's swater nor new-mown hay or moss roses. May the 
sowl of the gintleman as what invented yees forever rest in 
pace ful slumber. Had I had the inflooence of yeer svvate 
presence wid me on me late tower in the gulleys (they calls 
'em valleys) of Colorado, I'd a depopulated the intire coun- 
thry of the rid divils of hingius they tells on, barrin' the 
divil the one of them did I ever see. The divils knew I 
was out with my sprig. Whoopla ! [Brandishes shillalah.] 
And her ladyship is most kilt intirely climin' over those gul- 
leys and ridges, pigmies though they be beside the grand 
scenery of ould Erin, county of Killarney, town of Kill- 
down. And now will yees inform me, yer honor, the honor- 
able Michael O'Shauglmessy, why it is we're trapsing out to 
the Garden of the Gods, as they calls it. And have they pra- 
ties and turnips there? Or what do they bees raisin' shoor? 

[Enter Mr. Greatheart Hopeful, dressed as a Yankee, 
who stares at Mike, and Mike at him. Mike continues :] 

The top of the morning to yer riverence, and is it traveling 
yees are ? 

Hopeful. [Deliberately and in a draioing tone.] Wal, yaas, 
the least bit, yew might remark. 'Bin looking round some 
in this vale of tears. This is rather a poorty place, isn't 
it? [Looking around deliberately at the nicely furnished 



A KNIGHT AND A LADY. 11 

room, up at the ceiling, etc.] I calkilate you are the proprie- 
tor here? [Mike puts on a consequential air.] This is a 
right smartish place. Happy to know you, sir, happy to 
know you. Have you seen my specimens, sir? Struck it 
ri^h ! [Pours out a lot of rocks upon a table, from a, bag.] 
This spec'men from the " Rising Star," we calkilate (Skule- 
mister Hardstick of Linen's Gulch and myself), by a close' 
estimate will assay ten thousand dollars to the ton (and I 
was calkilated good at figures in old Connecticut). The 
vein is immense — forty feet between side walls, and no bot- 
tom found. No knowin' where it begins or ends ; it's a car- 
bonate. Carbonates are all the rage now, you know. This 
streak is silver thread. 

Mike. Is this goold ? [Putting Ms finger on a large yel- 
low spot.] 

Hopeful. No, that's sulphur. 

Mike. Sulphur, bedad, and where's the goold? 

Hopeful. Oh, tli at is not visible. 

Mike. Not visible, is it ? 

Hopeful. No, the gold is inside. It was calkilated by 
Skulemister Hardstick, at Linch's Gulch, that this rock 
would pan out ten thousand dollars to the ton. Let's calki- 
late now [Takes a large sheet of paper from his lag and 
figures on it with a large carpenter's pencil] how much the 
mine will run. Calkilate the mine is fifty, tons wide and 
two hundred tons deep, that would be ten thousand tons. 
And calkilate its length is two miles, say ten thousand 
tons long ; ten thousand times ten thousand tons is one 
hundred million tons, and as Skulemister Haidstick calki- 
lates ten thousand dollars to the ton, that will make ten 
thousand times one hundred million, which is one trillion, 
the value of the mire, the "Rising Star." That is a very 
modest calkilation : it will probably go much more. That's 
a right smart chance of a sum — enough to pay this nation's 
debt and have some left for pin money. How'd you like a 
half interest in it, eh, Mike? Is that your name, Mike? 

Mile. It is, zur — the honorable Michael O'Shaughnessy, 
gintleman, late of Erin, county of Killarney, town of Kill- 
down. And it's meself that ud be obleeged to yeesforahalf 
interest in that same mine, sure. 

Hopeful. All right, Mike, you shall have half of it ! 

Enter Ransome. 

Bansome. Well, Mike, you are looking blooming after 
your cruel Indian wars are over. Let's see, how many In- 
dians did you kill, Mike? 

Mike. Divil the haper of thim. The divil a red nose of 



12 A KNIGHT AND A LADY. 

thim puts in a head when the honorable Michael O'Shaugh- 
nessy, meself I mane, puts in a bit of a sprig into the 
arana ! 

Hopeful. [ Who lias been looking on, advances to Bansome, 
and says] Glad to know you, sir, glad to know you ; I've 
struck it rich, sir, I've struck it rich. Permit me to show 
you my specimens, sir, including some from the "Rising 
Star." [Empties them on table.'] This sulphide, sir, carries 
an immense per cent, of pure silver. This dull streak is 
thread silver, sir. This is sulphur ; the gold is inside. Per- 
mit me to make a slight computation. Vein, two hundred 
tons wide, three hundred deep, eighteen hundred long, total 
product, one hundred and eight million tons, assays, fifteen 
thousand dollars to the ton, which gives one trillion and six 
hundred and twenty billion of dollars as the value of the 
mine. A modest estimate ; it will probably turn out much 
more. Easily worked, sir ; mine very accessible. Gunni- 
son District, sir, Gunnison District. Four hundred miles 
from Pueblo. Two hundred foot shaft will reach it, sir. 
Road can be cut to mine at expense of not over seven hun- 
dred thousand. Incline only fifty-seven inches to the foot, 
sir. Beautiful scenery, sir, beautiful scenery, sir ; society, 
sir, society. — Ah, society will flow in, sir, will flow in. In 
ten years, sir, what is now accessible to only the most in- 
trepid and daring prospectors, armed with a pestle and mor- 
tar, will be a city with schools, churches, theaters, yes, 
theaters, sir, newspapers, dance-houses, saloons, divorce 
courts, and ail the modern accessories and improvements of 
the highest civilization and most cultured society. It will 
not cost over four or five hundred thousand dollars to put 
in machinery and open up the mine. A bonanza, sir, a bo- 
nanza for some enterprising eastern capitalist, Consider it, 
sir, consider it. Take a drink, sir ? Take a drink ? 

Enter Helen. 

Ransome. Not at present, sir. I'll consider it. [Exit 
Mike and Hopeful, Hopeful pointing out to Mike rich spots 
in a carbonate. ] 

Hopeful. [Going out.] Very rich, sir, very rich carbonate, 
silver threads, gold inside. [Helen starts on seeing the par- 
lor occupied, and is about to retire.] 

Ransome. Good morning, Miss Helen. Don't go. [Ad- 
vances, takes her hand and leads her to a seat.] May I not 
call you dear Helen ? You are dear to me, dearer than life. 
My life, hitherto a blank one, void of that holy emotion of 
love, now knows and feels that glad thrill for the first 
time. Helen, I love you, I love you. Will you not be my 
wife? 



A KNIGHT AND A LADY. 13 

Helen. [Rising, startled] Oh, no, I never can. I do not 
love you ! 

Ransome. But you may learn to in association with me, 
who loves you better than my own life, and under the in- 
fluence of a love, a holy first love, that burns for you un- 
ceasingly, may not your gentle heart feel its power and turn 
to it in sweet response ? 

Helen. Oh, no ! I can never, never love you, I know I 
never can ! 

Ransome. I long to win your heart for myself alone. I 
do not want your hand, promised to me years ago by your 
father, without you can give your heart with it. ^ 

Helen. That I cannot do. It is not mine to give. It has 
gone from me, forever from me. 

Ransome. Oh, Helen ! what do you mean ? Do you love 
another ? 

Helen. I fear I do. Oh, my father ! My father ! 

Ransome. Helen, remember your father's white head, 
how it will be brought low in despair to the grave if you 
thwart the cherished wish of his life to make you my happy 
wife, before he quits this hard, hard world. He has only a 
few days, at best, to live, not years, and disobedience on 
your part would strike His death knell. 

Helen. I know it. Oh, unhappy lot ! Oh, why did I ever 
see him? Filial love and duty, and my dear, dear, kind, 
loving father's happiness, would make me your wife; would 
make me bind around my heart the rusty, clanging, hated 
chain ; would make me false to woman's longings and 
woman's hopes. But there stups in a new-born holy love 
that bids me hold — that Lids me halt at the brink of this 
precipice of woe. I cannot crush it down, its holy fire will 
ever burn. While that heavenly flame burns in my heart, 
and while he lives, I can never, never be your wife ! While 
my filial love remains, and my father lives, I will remain 
his true and loving daughter. [Helen starts to go. 

Enter Cokbin. 

Ransome. Ah, there comes your father. I leave you with 
him. [Helen sinks on sofa and covers her face with her hands. 
Ransome going out and remarking to Corbin :] Good morn- 
ing, Mr. Corbin, my dear father ! Helen is agitated ; soothe 
her, and — hasten on the happy day when our marriage will 
make our lives glorious. [Exit. 

Corbin. [Advancing to his daughter] My daughter, good 
morning ! Ah ! you weep ! Why do you weep, dear Helen? 
[Takes seat beside her, and takes her hand. Helen puts arms 
around his neck and sobs.] 



14 A KNIGHT AND A LADY. 

Helen. Oh, dear father, I love you, You have ever been 
good and noble to me, and I will repay your love by a life 
of devotion. I will never leave you, dear father. I will 
always be your true and loving Helen ! 

Corbin. I thank you, my proud and noble daughter. It 
tears my old heart-strings asunder to share you and your 
love with another. But I am doing for your best ; my white 
hairs and feeble limbs and almost palsied heart admonish 
me with sharp reminder, that I can live in this beautiful 
world but a very few weeks, at most. Nothing but the life- 
giving elixir of this glorious climate, this pure and healing 
mountain air, the soothing, balm-laden perfumes from those 
waving mountain pines, has kept me from to-day sleeping 
in the churchyard at home. But climate, and balmy air, 
and cheering sun cannot give life, they can only at best pro- 
long it, as they have mine ; but it is now fast ebbing to an 
end. -4$|gH 

Helen. Oh, father, dear noble father, do not say so; I can- 
not let you go. I wil] hold you here. Death is a thief — 
he shall not have you, he shall not have you ! \M 

SI Corbin. Dearest daughter, we all must die. I am pre- 
pared to go, with but one duty of my life unfulfilled. Be- 
fore I rest beneath the green sod, guarded only by the silent 
stars, I want to see you the honored and happy wife of my 
dear and noble friend Ransome, whose father and I betrothed 
you two when you were a little prattling babe. • Boys to- 
gether, and college friends, and business companions, till 
his death at sea — it was our manhood's dream to see you 
two one, to unite our families. Ransome has the noble 
mien and nature of hi* father. He will be to you a fond 
and noble husband. He has a princely wealth, and every 
longing of your heart is only to be named to be answered. 

Helen. Oh, no, dear father ; the heart has longings that 
no fabled wealth can satisfy. It has a thirst that no bound- 
less sea of gold can quench. The heart and wealth are not of 
kin. Oil and water will not mingle. Gold and love are 
strangers. But why give me to another, dear father ? why 
not keep me all yourself? Why not let me love only you, 
caress only you ? [Caresses Mm~\ Live for only you — till 
death do us part ? I ask no sweeter, happier, holier life. 

Corbin. My heart would have it so, dearest child, image 
of my idol wife, your mother, but prudence, duty, and fore- 
sight urge me on to crush uown my own sweet longings, 
and sacrifice my exclusive love to your future happiness, 
and joyous, loving, happy life, as the honored, idolized wife 
of my noble friend. 

Helen. But why not obey the language of our hearts, 



A KNIGHT AND A LADY. 15 

dear father, and drink the glorious present joy, leaving the 
future to the future ? The heart is never mistaken ; it 
never deceives ; it never disappoints ; its language of love 
thrills and lights our lives forever, on forever. Let us never 
separate, father ; let me love and live for only you. 

Corbin. My own heart, darling, and your sweet affection, 
would make me forget my duty to my child. It must not 
be, darling. To love you is to desire your happiness. You 
have many years to live when I am gone. To make happi- 
ness exclusively ours during the few remaining days I 
have to live, might imperil your happiness for life. Oh 
no ! I cannot do it, my daughter ! Let your marriage take 
place on our return from our trip to the Garden of the Gods 
Order your trousseau and trappings now, so that they may 
be ready by our return. [Helen starts off weeping, but re- 
turns and throws her arms around her father 's neck, sobbing, 
and exclaims:] 

Helen. Oh, father, father ! I cannot, I cannot ! I can 
never marry Mr. Ransome. I had not thought to tell you, 
but I must, I must — I love another ! 

Corbin. Oh, Helen ! Helen ! Whom can my dear child 
love ? Whom does she know ? 

Helen. Dear father, I love the noble knight that saved us 
from the robbers, and that sav^d us from death in the moun- 
tains. He does not know my love, but I love — Kit Carson ! 

Corbin. The scout, Kit Carson ! Oh, Helen ! Helen ! 

Enter Kit Carson, who overhears Helen say she loves him. 
lableau. 

Kit. What ! Loves me ! the wild ranger of the hills ! 

Corbin. [Holding out his hand to Carson] Ah, Mr. Carson! 
how do you do ? This is a surprise ! [Helen hides her face 
in her father's breast, and holds out her hand to Carson, who 
takes it and touches it with his lips.] This is indeed unfor- 
tunate ! Helen is betrothed to Ransome, and is to be mar- 
ried on our return from the Garden of the Gods, to which 
place we start this afternoon. By chance yon overheard her 
declaration. But perhaps, Helen, you would better retire. 
[Helen retires from view of father and Kit, but remains in 
view of audience, watching and listening eagerly.] I am sure, 
Mr. Carson, you are too honorable a man and a gentleman 
to take advantage of it. Helen's position in life has been 
one of luxury and refined ease. Mr. Ransome's wealth, ad- 
ded to my own, will place before her a life of affluence, and 
all the goods and joys this world can afford. Did you love 
her, as she unfortunately seems to you, your lives could 
never be together, for had you lands and wealth, I could 



16 A KNIGHT AND A LADY. 

never give her to a stranger. Mr. Ransome's father and I 
were boys together, and I know him to be to the blooded 
manor born. 

Kit. I am not to the blooded manor born. I have not lands 
or wealth. I am but a man, nfree and honest man. Had I 
all the wealth piled in these rocky hills, I could not ask 
your lovely daughter's hand ; she has the refined and gentle 
mind that only education can give. I am but a rough, un- 
tutored scout. She has trod the halls of learning ; I have 
climbed my native mountain peaks. You say, did I love 
her ? Do I love her ? Does a mother love her babe ? Does 
the Christian love Gfod ? When I stood on the crag by the 
canon and Saw her beautiful face, filled with purity and 
poetry, turned to heaven, my heart bounded out in rapture. 
Then did my soul revel in a glorious, holy joy ! [Helen 
leans forward and almost flies to him, but does not.} But be- 
hind this holy light came quick and close the dark cloud of 
despair. There opened up between us the impassable gulf 
of wealth, station, and education, that separates us forever. 
No, I could not be so base as to take your daughter, if of- 
fered to me by yourself. I could not so degrade her. I 
could not be so cruel as to bind this sweet and blooming 
beauty to an uncouth mountaineer like myself. No, Mr. 
Corbin, as an honest man and a gentleman, I'll be your friend, 
but never seek to be your son. 

Corbin. Most nobly said ; you command my respect and 
admiration, and would win my love. Had your lot been 
cast otherwise, you might have helped to guide the state, 
I shall always be happy to call you friend. 

Kit. A true and honest friend you'll find me, always. 

[Shake hands. Exit Corbin. 

Enter Hopeful, followed by Mike. 

Hopeful. [To Carson] Glad to know you, sir, glad to know 
you. Struck it rich, sir, struck it rich. Permit me to 

show [Recognizes Carson as an old friend, and pauses 

in surprise.] Why, good God ! old pard, how are you I It's 
Kit Carson, as I am a sinner ! 

Kit. Yes, it is Kit Carson. Mighty glad to see you, old 
fellow ! 

Mike. [To Hopeful] And, be the holy pipers of Bally- 
maloch, do you know me best friend, Mr. Carson, who as- 
sisted me to clane up a hundred or two of them murdering 
rood 'gints ? 

Hopeful. Know him ? What ! know Kit Carson ? Show 
me a man this side of the Missouri River that doesn't know 
him, and I will show you a tender foot. I have known Kit 



A KNIGHT AND A LADY. 17 

Carson when Kit Carson was the only tiling that stood be- 
tween me and death ! I have known him to give his own 
rations to his comrades and march for days without food ! 
Know him ! Well, old pard, [Takes Kit's hand and shakes 
heartily] I guess I do know you ! Well, pard, I've struck 
it rich, down on Gunnison Fork, no mistake ! I've been 
giving these tenderfeet taffy, jast for fan, you know. But 
I've struck it, old pard! We'll divvy. Do you remember the 
mountains where the Indians went over the precipice ? 
Well, that's the place. On the southern slope of that snow- 
cap. Will you go over with me, old pard? 

Kit. No, old pard, no more mountain trails for me. I 
have but this hour formed a resolution that will govern the 
rest of my life. I shall go to college, and walk henceforth 
the intricate paths of book learning. My mind 's made 
up. 

Hopeful. What ! Kit go to college ? That's a good joke ! 

Kit. It's no joke. I'll do it. 

Hopeful. Well, if you do, you shall have half of my 
mine to do it with ! 

Mike. Whoopla ! I think his honor, the honorable Mi- 
chael O'Shaughnessy will go to college, too, when he gets out 
of these sage trees and rood gintlemen. But the stage has 
jist come in, gintlemen. I wonder if there is a letter for 
meself from the grane island in the sea. [Exeunt omnes. 

Enter, by another door, Agnes Levannion. 
Agnes. At last I have arrived in the West — at the end of 
the railroad. They tell me that his ranch lies three hun- 
dred miles from here — two hundred by stage and the rest 
by a trail through the mountain gorges. I'll set out to- 
morrow, to see it I can find my runaway husband and re- 
cover my stolen fortune. I am advised to procure the ser- 
vices of the renowned scout, Kit Carson, to guide me through 
these terrible mountain ranges. I'll ring, and make inqui- 
ries. 

[Takes hell from table to ring, when enters her husband, Ban- 
some ; drops bell to floor and sta?*es speechless at him for a 
moment, when both exclaim in same breath :] 

Both. What ! You here ! 

Agnes. So, at last, I have come face to face with the man 
who basely deserted me and stole my property ! 

Bansome. And so, at last, you have dared to beard the 
lion in his den ! Who do you suppose will believe your 
stories ? All proofs are destroyed. I shall deny I ever saw 
you! 



18 A KNIGHT AND A LADY. 

t Agnes. Base villain ! I have the proofs here in these cop- 
ies you thought you had burned ! [Holds up papers ; he 
sees he is trapped ; turns white ; resolves to diplomatize. ] 

Ransome. [Aside] I must dissemble, diplomatize, and trap 
her ! [Aloud] Dearest Agnes, I was only trying you ! I 
love you still. I was but now on my way east, to restore all 
and try to again win your love. Oh, I have bitterly re- 
pented of all my great sin and wrong to you. [ Weeps] Can 
you not look on me with forgiveness ? 

Agnes. I could forgive, but I could never trust ! A heart 
once deceived can never fully trust again. My heart would 
both forgive and trust, but reason, judgment, caution, and 
experience, all tell me that to trust were but the action of a 
fool ! 

Ransome. I swear by all the sacred ties that ever bound 
us, by the love with which I first wooed you, by the holy, 
virgin, girlhood love you gave me, by all my hopes of hea- 
ven, by all my hopes of happiness here on earth, that I love 
you still as dearly, truly, fondly, as ever, and that I was on 
my way east to find you and on my prostrate knees beg your 
pity and forgiveness ! 

Agnes. [Deceived and touched] Oh, James ! if I could 
only trust you ! I love you yet. I feel the old love swelling 
now in my heart ! The face of my first love, and those 
eyes in tears bring back all the memories of our happy 
wedded life ! Oh, James ! James ! are you deceiving me, 
or do you love me yet? 

Ransome. As the great God who first brought our loving 
hearts together is my judge, I love you with as dear and 
holy a love as when I led you, a blushing, trusting bride, to 
the altar. [Holds out his arms. 

Agnes. Oh, James ! James ! 

[Falls into his arms, weeping. Ransome turns his head aside, 
and a sinister look crosses his face. He kisses and caresses 
her.] 

Ransome. How happy we will be again, darling ! How 
fortunate we met on our way to find each other ! 

Agnes. Oh, yes, indeed. Oh, what joy, when I expected 
misery ! Oh, James ! James ! will you always be true to 
me? 

Ransome. Yes, my darling. We'll go to my ranch and 
spend the summer months on the mountain slopes, while I 
settle my affairs, and as frosty autumn draws on, we will 
take our way east, and make there a winter home. 

Agnes. Oh, what happy days are in store for us yet, dear 
James. With you, and resting in your love, life would be 



A KNIGHT AND A LADY. 19 

one grand symphony of joy. Earth would seem to r fade 
away and heaven be realized. 

Bansome. Yes, love, life would be one grand sunshiny 
day, unflecked by cloud or shadow. Are these oar marri- 
age certificate and title deeds, darling ? [Touching the,papers 
in her hand.] 

Agnes. Yes, these are the papers that proclaim us man 
and wife, and give me title to an estate of a million. 

Bansome. Let me see them, darling. [She holds out and 
he takes the papers. After examining them all carefully, he 
continues :] Yes, this paper makes you my wife, and this 
gives me your fortune ! This pocket is admirably adapted 
to keep them safely. 

[Holds open his coat and drops them into a capacious inside 
breast pocket. Agnes takes hold of them and says :] 

Agnes. Not now, James ! not now ! 

Bansome. Yes, now ! [Seizing hold of papers. 

Agnes. Oh, no ! Oh, no ! [Pulls them away. 

Bansome Give them to me ! I must have them! or I 
will not be responsible for my acts. 

Agnes, [firmly a,nd excitedly] Never ! Never ! 

Bansome. [In frenzy of rage and hate] Give them to me ! 
or I will murder you ! 

[Seizes her and takes them away and runs out. Agnes screams 
and falls on sofa. Kit Carson rushes in, sees Agnes ex- 
hausted and half swooning.] 

Kit. What's this ? A woman fainted ? 

Agnes. [Becovering] No, not fainted — exhausted, terri- 
fied, deceived ; oh ! horribly deceived and robbed, robbed. 

Kit. Robbed? How robbed? Who! What? 

Agnes. Robbed of my marriage certificate and my title 
deeds ! 

Kit. By whom ? 

Agnes. By James Ransome, my husband. 

Kit, By James Ransome, your husband ! What, James 
Ransome your husband? 

Agnes. Yes, be is my husband, whom I have searched for 
for years, and found him at last only to be by him basely 
deceived and robbed ! Ob, man, man ! base ignoble man ! 

Kit. How did it happen ? Tell me all. 

Agnes. Years ago 1 was married to James Levannion, 
now calling himself James Ransome. I possessed in my 
own right immense estates left me by my father. These 
gradually fell under the control of my husband, and finally 
he forged my signature, mortgaged the estate for an im- 



20 A KNIGHT AND A LADY. 

mense sum, and fled. It was years before I heard from him, 
and never till to-day did I see him. The estate still rests 
under the incubus of these loans. I came to find him. 
Meeting him in this room, all my old love returned. It had 
never been dead, but sleeping. Instead of an accuser and 
avenger, I fell into his arms — a lover. He took advantage 
of my love and confidence, and tried to get me to give him 
the papers, which I held in my hand. A doubt arose and 
I refused. He took them by force and fled through that 
door ; and now my love is fled again and I know he is a 
villain. 

Kit. Rest easy, my dear madam. I know James Ransome 
well. He cannot escape us. And this is the honorable gen- 
tleman, noble friend, to the blooded manor born, that would 
marry my Helen, but make her no wife. Oh, Helen ! 
Helen ! you are saved ! A gleam of hope shines on my 
dark and dreary heart. [Rings bell violently. 

Enter Hopeful, excitedly. 

Hopeful. What, pard, what is it ? 

Kit. Old friend, will you stay with this lady while I 
bring to a settlement Ransome, the robber Ransome ? 

Hopeful. Ransome! What, a robber ? He's gone. He and 
the Corbin party left twenty minutes ago for the Garden 
of the Gods. 

Kit. We must overhaul them. Can you ride on horse- 
back, madam? 

Agnes. It is my favorite pastime. 

Kit. [To Hopeful] Order six horses to be ready immedi- 
ately, three saddled and three led. We'll catch them be- 
fore they are many miles down the canon. 

[ Exit Hopeful, hurriedly. 

Kit. Rest easy, madam, have no fear. We'll recover 
your property, and your worthless husband, and — save 
Helen — oh ! Helen ! Oh ! the happy hope that springs up 
in me ! The glorious new-born joy that fires and thrills my 
soul ! Oh ! love is a sun, a glorious sun, that shines eter- 
nal, on and on. 

Hopeful. [At door, shouts;'] Ready! [Tableau. Curtain. 



ACT III. 

Scene : Garden of the Gods. 

Enter Ransome. 
Ransome. This is grand, beautifully grand ! Those grand 
old mountains reaching their white peaks toward heaven, 



A KNIGHT AND A LADY. 21 

bathed in white sunlight, symbolizing truth, purity, and 
all that is good and elevating in man, are enougli to make 
me abandon my dark deeds and lift my thoughts on high. 
But while my thoughts were raised to heaven, I myself 
would be sunk to hell. No, those happy, innocent days 
have fled. Oh, Agnes ! Agnes ! I love you still ; and you 
would yet forgive me. But, weak coward, what is this 
you are dreaming? I love you still, but I love gold and 
sweet Helen more. Away, pure thoughts ! away, good 
deeds ! I must have the old man carried off by Sandeval, 
the Mexican robber of the pines. And then fly with Helen, 
and force her to marry me on a promise to release and re- 
turn the old man. The others I'll let fate and the red devils 
take care of. What a brisk fire that hot-blooded Irish devil 
will make. But Sandeval. He should be here. 

Sandeval entering, says : 

Sandeval. And so he is. How can I serve my friend 
and partner, Signor ? 

Bansome. [Shaking hands'] Ha ! Glad to see you. The 
sight of your graceful form gives me pleasure. 

Sandeval. Thanks, gracious signor. Would you make 
the robber chieftain blush like a signorita? 

Ransome. Oh, no ; it is but the truth. And what is better 
still, I know that that sylph-like mould encases a frame of 
finest steel ; those soft and velvet fingers can crush and 
throttle. But gentle admiration when our terrible work is 
done ! Sandeval, I have in hand a fearful task. An old 
man and servant to be carried off, and guards to be taken too 
or killed ; to me will be left the task of taking care of the 
lovely daughter. The most divinely beautiful woman God 
ever gave to man ; fittest queen for this gloriously beauti- 
ful kingdom of the gods. [Waving toward the mountains.] 
Down in that shady nook on the Velvet Sward they rest 
from the toils of our journey. 

Sandeval. So I had already observed. 

Ransome. What! Have you seen them? Where, and 
how? 

Sandeval. From yonder castle cliff as I studied nature 
hereabouts with my glass. But who are the other parties 
on horseback coming up the canon? 

Ransome. What ! another party ! Then they must be 
either pursuers or a party of stray tourists. In either case, 
they must be captured too. 

Sandeval. That may involve hot work. If I mistake not, 
I recognized the mountain knight, Kit Carson. 

Ransome. Hell and furies ! then we have hot work ahead 
indeed. Who else? 



22 A KNIGHT AND A LADY. 

Sandeval. A woman and a man : a mountaineer. 

Ransome. Agnes and the bonanza hunter ! Get your 
forces well in hand and make the attack when opportunity 
arrives to seize all together. Leave none behind but Helen, 
the daughter of the white-haired old man. I will manage 
to be strolling to one side with her, and you can thus very 
easily ovei look us. 

Sandeval. I'll strike quick and hard when the time comes. 
I'll strike the blow, but will not be responsible for the 
damage. 

Bansome. Damn the damage ! I'll take care of that. Do 
the work, and ten thousand dollars gold are yours. I'll 
now join my party. I leave all in your hands. [Bait. 

Sandeval. Love and gold, the two gods that rule the 
world and strive ever for the mastery. Signor Ransome 
sacrifices all for love, I, all for gold. Love, bah ; it is only 
a name ; the thing dpes not exist ; it died when commerce 
gave birth to gold. For gold I'll capture and possibly kill 
these innocent people. For gold the husband forsakes the 
wife, and wife the husband. Their love, when sought for, 
is not. Gold is the mighty power that moves the world and 
to which all bow down. 

Enter Hopeful. 

Hopeful. Glad to know you, sir, glad to know you. 
Struck it rich, sir, struck it rich. Permit me to show you 
my specimens. {Emptying rocks from bag ; holds one up.] 
Sulphuret ! This dull lead streak you see here is silver, 
silver threads among the gold ; this yellow — oh ! that's on- 
ly sulphur, the gold is inside. Immensely rich, sir, im- 
mensely rich. Assays, thirty thousand dollars. Unlimited 
vein, unknown depth. A million and a half will open up 
and operate the mine. Gunnison District. 

Sandeval. Gunnison District ! 

Hopeful. Gunnison District, timber on the spot, vein of 
coal. In a few years, on the spot where now Sandeval 
[Sandeval starts'] rendezvouses his robbers, church-spires 
will glitter heavenward and school -children will play blind- 
man's bluff. 

Sandeval. Signor, older children play "bl in dman's buff" 
sometimes now in these regions. Who is this Sandeval of 
whom you speak ? 

Hopeful. He is called the " Mexican robber of the pines." 
I never had the pleasure of meeting him, and I might add 
with equal truth I don't care to meet him in these parts. 
He is said to be as handsome and polite as he is bold and 
blood-thirsty. 



A KNIGHT AND A LADY. 23 

Sandeval. Quite romantic, to be sure. Does lie ever come 
into this region ? 

Hopeful. He lias never "been known to come so far east 
and north as this. He ranges near the Mexican border and 
raids into New Mexico. Arizona, and Southwestern Colo- 
rado. But seriously, stranger, if you are an Eastern capital- 
ist, as I judge you to be, will you not investigate my speci- 
mens and my mine? It is rich, sir, undoubtedly rich. If 
you will permit me to make a computation [Produces large 
sheet of paper and large carpenter's pencil] you will see the 
immense value of the bonanza I so lightly throw at your 
feet. According to Skulemister Hardstick of Linch's Gulch 
the ore from my poorest mine, the Rising Star, assays thir- 
ty thousand dollars to the ton, Eighty tons wide, equals 
two million four hundred thousand tons ; one hundred and 
fifty tons deep, as a modest calkilation — it is probably much 
deeper — equals three hundred and sixty millions ; and cal- 
kilate. say a mile and a half long — a modest calkilation, it 
is probably much longer — equals about thirty-five hundred 
tons long, which multiplied by the other dimensions, three 
hundred and sixty million, equals one trillion two hundred 
and sixty thousand millions as the value of the mine. A 
very modest calkilation. It is probably much more. Con- 
sider it, colonel, consider it. 

Sandeval. Signor, later I shall be pleased to do so. At 
present I have business with a party of gentlemen who have 
accompanied me to this grand, romantic spot I hope we 
shall meet very soon again. Adieu, Signor. 

[Doffs his hat gracefully. Exit. 

Enter Mike. 

Mike. And be the holy and riverintial pipers of Bally- 
maloch, and is it yourself? And how is the sulphurets, 
sure? And the Carbon atesf 

Hopeful. Rich, Mike ! Rich beyond calkilation ! My poor- 
est mine, the Rising Star, is likely to make me a bonanza 
king. A slight calkilation [Takes out very large paper and 
pencil] — permit me — shows the Rising Star to be two hun- 
dred tons wide, three hundred deep, four thousand long. 
A modest calkilation. It is probably much longer. The 
product of which is two hundred and forty millions of tons. 
It is calkilated by Skulemister Hardstick of Linch's Gulch 
that it will assay eighteen thousand dollars to the ton, which 
will give one hundred and ninety-two billion dollars as the 
value of the mine. A modest calkilation. It is probably 
much greater. 

Mike. And what will yees be doing wid all yer grate 
wilth, sure ? 



24 A KNIGHT AND A LADY. 

Hopeful. Mike, I'll endow an orpan asylum. 

Mike. And be the pipers of Bonny Doon I'll be the 
horphun ! 

Hopeful. You shall, Mike, you shall. 

Mike. But where did yez come from ? and where is the 
noble knight, Kit Carson? It's his honor, the honorable 
Michael O'Shaughnessy that ud be giving worlds to see 
him. 

Hopeful. He is not far off. You'll see him soon ? Is Ran- 
some here ? 

Mike. He is jist beyant. It's himself and the lady and 
her father that's jist coming this way to ate a bit of a snack 
at this very place. 

Hopeful. I'll go. Don't tell them Kit or 1 are here. We 
want to surprise them. 

Mike. Whist, me darlint. I'll be as silent as a third 
termer. Divil a whisper will yees hear from me. 

[Exit Hope. 

Mike. And a foine man he is, and a rich one too, and a 
foine mathematician. If his sulphurets pan out according 
to his figures, it will take a train of cars to carry his goold. 
Faith, if I had a patchin' of it, I'd go back to the ould sod 
and be a landlord, and muschla, wouldn't I make the tin- 
ants tip their hats to his honor, the honorable Michael 
O'Shaughnessy, the wilthy American gintleman that made 
a fortune in the mines of Colorado, the celebrated Rising 
Star. A small country this ; divil a thing to plaze the eye 
of a fastidious gintleman like mes If. It's so monotonous, 
I'm gething thin. If I could only see a few of the rid 
skin divils for a change. I think about forty or fifty of 
them would satisfy me thirst for gore. [Hears noise ; is 
frigldened.] Whistla, what's that ! Oh, it is only a squir- 
ril. I was just going to rush to the fray, thinking it was a 
lot of rid divils. 

Enter Corbin, Helen, Ransome, and Attendants, who 
proceed to spread lunch. 
Mike. And it's a foine collation we have indeed. [To 
Helen.'] Will you have some of the cowld fowl, mistress ? 

[All eat 
Helen. Thanks, Mike. Mike, have you seen any Indians 
yet? 

Mike. No, your ladyship. I am kilt intirely waiting for 
them. Deferred hope makes a sick heart. I fear I'll be 
taken down wid the mgway ; me appetites gone entirely. 

[Gnaws leg of mutton. 
Corbin* [Pointing to the mountains] How beautiful the 



A KNIGHT AND A LADY. 25 

view ! How grand and majestic the mountains ! How quiet 
and serene all nature in this valley ! It does not seem pos- 
sible that this very spot Las been the scene of strife and 
bloodshed. 

Ransome. Yes, on this very spot, a year or two ago, the 
Indians attacked a party and left none to tell the tale. [Mike 
visibly alarmed and trembling.'] Sandeval, the great Mexican 
robber of the pines, has attacked rich touring parties here 
and carried off much plunder. 

Helen. Mike, what do you think of that? 

Mike. [Rallying] Ugh, and be the ancient pipers of Bal- 
lymaloch, I am a match for any forty of the cowardly spal- 
panes any day. It is his honor, the honorable Michael 
O'Shaughnessy, that id be delighted to mate a regiment of 
thim same rid divils. Divil a mother's son of 'em wud he 
lave to tell the tale. 

Enter Kit, Hopeful and Agnes. Mike crouches behind 
Helen in affright, thinking they are Indians. Seeing who 
it is, he recovers himself and pretends to be looking for some- 
thing he has lost. Exclamations of surprise on part of all 
of Corbin party.] 

Kit. [Gives hand lo Corbin] Ah, my friend ! Glad to meet 
you in this glorious spot. 

Corbin. And we you too. Your face brings pleasure. 
Kit. [To Helen] It gives me pleasure to see you once 
more. 

Helen. I assure you most heartily it is warmly recipro- 
cated. 

Agnes. [Recognizes her husband standing a little aside, 
slightly screams and exclaims to Kit :] There's my husband! 
Kit. Yes, that is Ransome. 
Ransome. What vile conspiracy is this ? 
Kit. It is no conspiracy, sir. It is simply a wronged, de- 
serted wife who seeks to recover her stolen property from a 
base, deserting husband. 

Agnes. [To Ransome] Where are my marriage certificate 
and my title deeds ? [Corbin and daughter look on with hor- 
ror depicted in their countenances.] 

Ransome. I do not know you, base woman. Begone, vile 
thing ! 

Agnes. Oh, James ! James ! [Turning to Helen.] Fair 
lady, he was the husband of my youth. He stole the value 
of my lands and fled. I found him at Pueblo but three 
days ago. There he took from me by force my marriage 
certificate and my title deeds, a moment before falsely pro- 
fessing undying love for me. 



26 A KNIGHT AND A LADY. 

Bansome. Contemptible pretender, where are your 
proofs ? 

Kit. Here ! [Sticking his breast] and there [Pointing to 
Agnes' face] in that pure and honest face and in thos3 truth- 
ful eyes. 

Agnes. [Taking from her neck a locket.] Here, fair lady, is 
a locket with his picture and mine in our youth . In this 
case is inscribed in his own hand the words : "To my wife 
Agnes/' 

Helen. Dear madam, I know you speak the truth. It is 
written all over you in living lines. 

Gorbin. Oh, monstrous ! monstrous ! Is this the man 
to whom I betrothed my daughter, my beautiful, pure, and 
lovely Helen ? I would as soon have thought the heavens 
would fall. Oh, man ! man ! What an infinitely black, and 
devilish villain you are ! 

Bansome. Hold ! It is all a base and damnable fabrica-, 
tion to rob me of my bride and my fortune. Give me but 
time and I'll prove it a lie most damnable. 

Kit. Cease, cowardly monster ! The lie is written on 
your face, its contrary on her brow. [Pointing to Agnes.] 
Your own handwriting is on the locked containing your and 
her pictures. Where are the deeds and marriage certificate 
forced from her in the hotel at Pueblo? Scoundrel! dis- 
gorge, or your life 's the forfeit, and I the executioner. 

Bansome. Ha ! Pigmy scout, you are bold and bluster- 
ing. [Snaps pistol at his head and misses fire.] Ho there ! 
Sandeval ! 

[Mike crouching behind Helen; Sandeval, robbers and In- 
dians spring from cover, and after desperate struggle, in 
which Kit and Hopeful fell several Indians, seize and bind 
all but Bansome and Helen.] 

Mike. [Bound, to Indians :] Good Mr. Injuns, plase lave 
me go and I pledge you the sacred honor of the holy pipers 
of Bally maloch, I'll give you half of Hopeful's goolden car- 
bonates. The Rising Star is imminse. 

Hopeful. [Bound, to big Indian] Happy to know you, sir, 
happy to know you. Struck it rich, sir, struck it rich. Per- 
mit me to show you my specimens, including ore from the 
Rising Star. 

[Holds up bag to Indian, picks out rich ore and shows him, 
Indian examines it significantly and shoics it to other In- 
dian, meanwhile looking significantly at Hopeful.] 

Hapeful. Skulemister Hardstick calkilates after a careful 
assay that it will ran eighteen thousand dollars to the ton. 
Permit me to make a small calkilation of the Rising Star. 



A KNIGHT AND A LADY. 27 

Indian, Wampum, ugh. Big wampum, pale face, big 
wampum. [Looks significantly at bag of ore. Make scene 
of this.'] 

Helen. [To Ransome] Oh, most loathsome fiend ! Despic- 
able reptile ! I next look to see you crawl like all your 
slimy, snakish kind. Release my friend. Release my fa- 
ther. Oh, father ! father ! 

Ransome. [To Kit] Most noble scout ! Proud mountain 
knight! Where now is your braggart boast? Those In- 
dian hienas will broil with keen delight the shapely form of 
this knightly executioner. And your feminine partner — co- 
conspirator — will have the pleasure of witnessing the 
beautiful blaze the mountain scout produces, before she be- 
comes the mistress of an Indian brave. 

Agnes. A million times over wculd I prefer to be the mis 
tress of an Indian brave, rather than the wife of such a 
hellish demon as yourself. 

Ransome. Glad to see you get your choice. 

Kit. Well, demon, the end is not yet. Time will pay off 
this debt and make us even. Right moves as surely and as 
steadily to her end as does the earth in her orbit. You have 
the upperhand now. Events move in cycles. Avenging jus- 
tice will protect the right and strike down the wrong. Your 
day will come. Justice may be long retarded, but triumphs 
in the end, [Taken off ; all disappear. 

Mike. [Screaming] Let me go, your liverence, let me go, 
your riverence. 

Helen. They're gone, they're gone. Oh, terrible fate ! 
But mine still worse ! Monster, strike that bowie to my 
heart. Oh, monster ! monster ! why do you let me live? 
Why torture me with life when ail I love is lost? 

Ransome. Dear, dear Helen, I love you. 

Helen. Monster ! Do not insult me with endearing 
terms. 

Ransome. For your sake I will save them all. 

Helen. Do it then ; do it. 

Ransome. First be my wife, my wedded lawful wife. 

Helen. Your nife ! Your wife ! Before I'd be your wife, 
I'd see those mountains melt and all the woild consumed 
with fire ! 

Ransome. But think of your friends ! your father and 
your lover ! 

Helen. The mighty God that made and rules us will care 
for them ; he will not let the innocent perish. His hand is 
mighty to protect, and he will save them and hurl his terri- 
ble retribution on your head. 
i Ransome. Not while Sandeval and the blood-thirsty In- 



28 A KNIGHT AND A LADY. 

dians have them in charge. They will cut their living 
hearts out, burn then? at the stake, and while dancing around 
their burning bodies, pierce their quivering flesh with blaz- 
ing splinters. 

Helen. Oh, merciful God ! Oh, demon incarnate ! is 
there no help ? 

Ransome. Yes ; be my wife, and a trusty Indian brave 
crouching in that thicket will quickly bear my order to stop 
the hideous torture. 

Helen. Oh ! horrible, ignominious proposition ! Be your 
wife! Oh! loathsome, loathsome fate! To save my fa- 
ther and my lover I'd gladly sacrifice my life. Take it, 
monster, take it, and set them free — to save them I'd give 
my very soul — and — a million times more than all — my — 
woman's honor. Oh ! [ Weeps] my spotless honor ! [Re- 
covers] Yes, monster, villain, unutterably horrible, loath- 
some thing! I'll be your wife to save them. [.4*wZe] I'll 
save my friends and then I'll take my life with this untar- 
nished hand ! 

Ransome. Thanks, noble lady, thanks, you give me glor- 
ious joy. 

Helen. Quick, quick, send the messenger to their rescue 
and release. 

Ransome. Yes, to their rescue, but not release. Not till 
the holy man of God has pronounced us man and wife, has 
made us one, shall they be set free. I greatly prize your 
promise to be my wife, but can rule my conduct only by the 
accomplished fact. Let us hasten now to Denver, where the 
happy rite can be celebrated. 

Enter Kit. 

Kit. Not so fast. How would it do later ? Couldn't you 
possibly postpone your visit? I have a little business with 
you that needs immediate attention. I keep my promise : 
the hand of time often moves more rapidly than we count 
on. Justice sometimes moves as quickly as evil. The ac- 
count is now made up, the balance struck, and now we'll 
settle it. 

Ransome. That settles it. [Fires at Kit's head and mis- 
ses ; Helen shrieks.] Your life or mine is the only possible 
settlement of the business. [Rushes at Kit with knife ; Kit 
draws and they fight desperately with bowies ; Kit kills Ran- 
some.] 

Helen. [Cries] Saved! Oh, saved! [Throws herself on 
Kifs bosom.] 

Kit. At last ! My darling ! At last ! [ Tableau, Curtain. 



A KNIGHT AND A LADY. 29 

ACT IV. 

Parlor in mansion of Greatheart Hopeful, New York City. 
Millionaire ; Alderman. 

Enter Hopeful, seats himself by table and opens letters. 

Hopeful. Ah ! here is a letter from the superintendent of 
the Rising Star. Wonder how the carbonates are by this 
time. [Beads. 

Gunnison, June 16, 1880. 
President Hopeful, 

Dear sir : — To-day we pierced the flint side wall on second 
level and have at last struck the carbonates. They are rich 
beyond any previous discovery in this country. We'll be 
able to give you an assay to-morrow or next day. 
Yours, truly, 

Linderman, Superintendent of Mine. 

Struck it rich. Egad, they're struck it rich. Glad to know 

it, sir, glad to know it. Permit me to Ah ! I am glad 

to know it ; well, those mines have been a bonanza, surely. 
The Rising Star has netted us two millions and the others 
about as much, and only fairly tapped, as you may say. Yes, 
we struck it rich. What a melange is life ! How short a 
step between poverty and riches, and riches and poverty ; 
between life and death ; one moment burning at the stake 
and the next rescued by Kit, and on our way to rescue old 
Corbin and party, whom we never found, locating the Ris- 
ing Star instead. I wonder what ever became of them ; 
murdered, or held in captivity? I don't think Sandeval 
would murder them, but only hold them till Ransom e should 
pay for their taking off ; but Ransome being killed, the 
game was blocked. Well, the future may reveal the past. 
[Takes up another letter. ,] Ah ! from Kit. Graduated with 
honors and will be here at twelve. Why, bless me, it is 
nearly that now ! [Rings bell. 

Enter Helen, disguised as servant. 
Katie, Kit Carson [Katie starts\ will be down from Yale at 
twelve. See that everything is ready to make him comfort- 
able. Dinner at four. 

Katie. Yes, sir, everything shall be in order as you de- 
sire. 

Hopeful. Look after this room first, and you may do it 
now, as I am going out for a little fresh air. [Exit. 

Katie. So my lover is coming. How can I meet him 
without betraying my disguise ? I wonder if he will have 



30 A KNIGHT AND A LADY 

changed much since I saw him at Pueblo four years ago. 
Then he was handsome and noble looking. What changes 
those four years have wrought ! Kit a millionaire and a 
college graduate ! I, a servant in disguise in the house of 
his friend, Mr. Hopeful, that I might hear from him inci- 
dentally. Our position in life reversed. Wonder if father 
was killed or if he still lives ; I sometimes seem to know 
that he still lives and that I will some day see him. Well, 
Kit acted nobly and did all he could to save hi in. I wonder 
if I did not act foolishly to run away and hide myseif all 
these years, simply because my father's loss made me a 
pauper. Well, so it is ; whatever is to be, will be ; and as 
Pope says, whatever is, is right. But I must put this room 
in order ; Mr. Hopeful will be back soon. How kind and 
good he has been to me. I wonder that he has never pene- 
trated my disguise. What ! if Kit should know me ! But 
he won't ; I must not let my thoughts betray me. I must 
force Love dear Love, back from his promenade,my face,and 
lock and bolt him out of sight. How hard and cruel it is 
to crush down the noblest, purest emotion of the soul, the 
holiest feeling of which the human heart is capable. So- 
ciety ! Society ! Oh, the heinous crimes for which you have 
to answer ! [Sees Kit's letter on table and kisses it.) This is 
his letter. How the very sight and touch of it thrills me. 
How mighty and how sweet is love, that all pervading 
power ; that touches alike the heart of the king and the peas- 
ant. Why should we ever love if our longing, aching hearts 
are never to be satisfied. Oh, Kit ! Kit ! why did I ever 
know you ? It has brought me only pain, pain, pain ! But 
after all one little spark of true, glorious love balances all 
the pain that life can hold. [Muses.] I wonder if Mr. Hope- 
ful has ever been in love ; yes, I guess so ; few men arrive at 
his age without at some time having felt the magic tender 
thrill. What a beauiif til home he has ! How nice it is to 
be rich with every luxury at one's command. Ah ! how lit- 
tle do the rich know how much the poor have to endure. 
But Mr. Hopeful does, for when I knew him first he was 
ragged at the knees, and seemed pinched and thin from 
hunger. One cannot realize the miseries of poverty till he 
is poor himself. I wonder if I will ever be rich again and 
have a home of my own? Ah! "Home, sweet Home." 

'[Seats herself at piano and plays and sings "Home, sweet 
Rome;" if encored, plays "Rome Contentment Waltz." 
Hopeful appears at door and overhears her, unseen by 
her.] 

Hopeful [To himself aside] So my lady Helen ! At last I 



A KNIGHT AND A LADY. 31 

am sure of your identity. Well, glad to know you, miss, 
glad to know you. You've struck it rich, struck it rich. 

Permit me Ah ! Well, I'll keep dark and give you a 

pleasant surprise, you sweet, glorious woman. [Coining for- 
ward.] Well, Katie, you are about done here, are you? 

Katie. Yes, sir, done. [Starts out.] Everything in good 
order. 

Hopeful. Katie, do you play ? I thought I heard music. 

Katie. Oh, no ! sir. I don't play. 

Hopeful. But I am sure I heard the piano. 

Katie. Oh, sir, I was just fumbling over the keys to see 
how it would sound. I am fond of music, sir. 

Hopeful. A good taste, Katie. Some one says, that a 
man who does not love music is fit for war, conspiracy, and 
stratagem. But, Katie, I believe you can play. 

Katie. Oh, no ! sir. 

Hopeful. Here is a piece of music I just bought. It is 
called the " Origin of the Harp." Did you ever hear it? 

Katie. Yes, sir. I learned that once, but have not played 
or heard it for years. It used to be a favorite of mine. 

Hopeful. Well, play and sing it now, Katie. 

Katie. I'll try it, sir, if you insist. [Plays and sings 
" Origin of the Harp ;" encored, plays the " Marseilles."] 

Hopeful. Why, you play and sing like a born lady. You 
must have occupied a better position in life some time, 
Katie. 

Katie. Oh, I picked it up here and there. I am fond of 
music. But I must go, sir. [Fmt. 

Hopeful. Divine Helen, were it not for that rascally Kit, 
Td propose to her myself. But your love days are over, 
Hopeful, old boy. A mild and gentle philosophy must 
smooth your declining years, must straighten out the 
wrinkles that disappointed love and pain have caused ; and 
when you have acquired fully that greatest human attain- 
ment, you will have struck it rich, sir, struck it rich. [Bell 
rings outside.] Ha ! wonder if that is Kit. Yes, it is! I hear 
his voice. [Meets Kit at door.] Ha ! my dear old boy, how 
are you ? 

Kit. Glorious ! Never better ! Health, wealth, educa- 
tion, spirits, friends, and you, dear, dear old pard ! noblest, 
best of all ! Everything, everything to make a man happy. 

Hopeful. Everything, everything. 

Kit. Everything but one, and for that one, poor fickle 
man would sacrifice all the others. Without love all the 
rest are lead, dull lead. With my lost glorious Helen pov- 
erty were wealth, hunger and want were satiety. Oh, 
Helen ! Helen ! what was your fate ? Why could I never 
hear from you ? 



32 A KNIGHT AND A LADY. 

Hopeful. Cheer up, my boy. You may find her some day 
yet. The future may yet be rosy, and love, the crowning 
joy, be added to all your other blessings. Now of all other 
times, the day following your graduation and your honors, 
you must not be sad. I have good news too from the mines. 
They have struck it rich there, sir, struck it rich. They 
have reached the carbonate vein in the Rising Star, and the 
superintendent writes me it is immensely rich. 

Kit. Well, that is good indeed. But money seems to 
pour in on a man when he does not care for it, and the 
thing he prizes more than life itself is withheld. 

Hopeful. As woman on creation morn was God's last best 
gift to man, so may it be in your individual case. No man 
knows what even the near future has in store for him. 
Philosophy, calm and placid science should teach us to 
make the most of the joys we have, and not torture our- 
selves longing for those beyond our reach. 

Kit. Away with philosophy; it is the food of minds dis- 
eased ; the strong and brave do not need it, except in love, 
and that is a weapon that no armed philosophy can fight 
against. 

Hopeful. Yes, so say I ; let's leave philosophy for those 
dreamy minds that live entirely in the future ; minds that 
think and dream, but never act. That is, let's leave it for 
the present like a garment laid aside to be put on again 
when the cold blasts and beating storms assail us. 

Kit. Well, you are philosophical even in discarding phil- 
osophy. 

Hopeful. Yes, oh, yes. But, Kit, tell us of your life at 
Yale. 

Kit. Oh, there is not much to tell. I have simply worked 
through a four years' course and graduated with honors. 
But I feel like a mere school -boy ; feel that I know less 
than I did when I went in. It has only opened up to my 
sight the illimitable sea beyond yet to be explored. I only 
know how little I know. While in its nature necessarily 
so, the work at Yale is in a measure hum-drum. It is a 
field of thought, theory, preparation. Preparation for the 
field, the world in which we act. I am glad that. I have- 
stepped at last into the arena of life, where I can use my 
weapons given me at Yale. Education is but a weapon 
placed in our hands to do battle with. We can only use it 
well by practice. It is a musical instrument, and may be 
never so perfect, but the music depends on the player. The 
minds of the masses is the instrument on which I hope to 
play. If 1 play it well, the good will be great. If but 
poorly the evil cannot be measured. On one thing, how- 



A KNIGHT AND A LADY. 33 

ever, I am firmly resolved, that whatever else there may be, 
however well or indifferently I may succeed in playing* the 
rhythm shall be the right. 

Hopeful. Well said, my boy, well said. While denounc- 
ing philosophy you are philosophical still. 

Kit. How wide a world there is before us yet to learn. 
A college course only brings us to the border and lets us 
look out at the broad expanse beyond. Those who think 
that a college course gives us all there is to know, do not 
yet know the first thing there is to learn. 

Hopeful. And what is taught is largely experimental, is 
it not? 

Kit. Yes, theory and not practice. The most helpless man 
in battling with the world is a new college graduate. Yet 
he has a good foundation on which to build a practical life. 

Hopeful. Would you advise a young man starting in life 
with small means to spend it in a college course or rather 
in establishing a business ? 

Kit. I would unhesitatingly say in a college education. 
In addition to the moral strength, it gives the self-respect 
and satisfaction ; it gives a man a keener insight into the 
ways of the world, into men and motives. However theo- 
retical and unsatisfactory it may be, as a capital to start life 
with, in the long run, it wins against large odds. If we 
look at the higher positions in life, at Congressional halls, 
and judges' bench, we find the statistical fact that in four cases 
out of five these highest positions are filled by college grad- 
uates. But I am glad it is over, and now, armed and ac- 
coutred, I am ready for the battle of life. But whoever 
may be the stronger, may the victory be to the right. 

Hopeful. A noble sentiment, worthy of the generous 
knight that says it. But undesirable as it may be, we must 
descend from those noble flights to the contemptible hum- 
drum of life : for after your journey you must be hungry. 
Pardon me, I'll order a little luncheon brought in here, and 
we'll dine later. [Rings Bell. 

Enter Katie. 

Katie, bring a little luncheon in here, well dine at eight. 
j Katie. [Looking at Kit and blushing.] Yes, sir. [Exit. 
Kit. [Staring after her.] Who is that girl ? I have sure- 
ly seen her. Her face is familiar. I cannot mistake that 
look. Her eyes shoot to my heart the same old thrill. 

Enter Katie, icith tray. 
It is Helen ! It is Helen ! Darling, at last, at last ! [Rushes 
forward and takes her in his arms ; Helen drops tray.] 



34 A KNIGHT AND A LADY. 

Hopeful. You've struck it rich, Kit, struck it rich. 

[Exit. 

Helen. Oh, Kit ! Kit ! How could you do so ? 

Kit. My dear Helen ! How could I help it ? I love you 
better than life itself. Wealth and luxury are dross with- 
out you and your love. Be my wife, Helen ! Be my wife 
and let us be married at once. 

Helen. I love you most, most dearly, dear, but I cannot 
marry you now. Not for a year yet, at any rate. 
' jfei! Why? Why not now ? A year to wait is an age, 
an age of misery, an age of torture. I cannot endure it ! 

Helen. Can you not, darling, in my love endure any- 
thing? 

Kit. Yes, in your love anything but deferred hope, which 
maketh the heart sick. Why wait, darling? Why not. 
now? A million times better now than in a year. See, a 
year of bliss that will be saved if we marry, and that will 
be lost if Ave wait. 

Helen. When you met me I was rich ; now I am a pau- 
per. I cannot come to you a beggar. 

Kit. Folly, darling, folly. What is money when love is 
at stake. By the side of love, diamonds fill but the office 
of sombre settings, against which dark background love 
shines a sun, a glorious, glaclening sun. But if money does 
weigh for aught, I have enough for both. I have millions 
already mined and coined ; and millions more undug, lying 
ready for the drill and blast. Come, fair, noble lady, it is. 
you I would marry, and not any paltry gold you might pos- 
sess. Say " yes," and name the happy hour — the present. 
Our good friend Hopeful will bring the man of God, who 
will sanction before the world the union of hearts that has 
long existed. 

Helm. My noble knight and my lover, how impetuous 
you are ! .You rush onward sweeping all before you Jike 
your native mountain torrents. But how can a beggar 
marry a king ? 

■-..., . . . . ... Enter . Hopeful , with a hurrah ! 

■Hopeful. . Beggar ! Who says "a beggar?" You've 
struck it rich, my lady, struck it rich. Here is your certi- 
ficate of deposit for oiie hundred thousand dollars in the 
Chemical National Bank. A modest dowery for a beggar 
girl ! And — here — is — a — marriage — license — issued — by 
the — Great — Commonwealth — of-— New York, — granting— 
unto— Kit — Carson, — Bachelor,— and — unto — Miss — Helen 
— 'Jorbiu, — S 4 >in>ter, — permission — Lo marry at once. And 
here — come in, sir — 



A KNIGHT AND A LADY. 35 

Enter Clergyman, 
is the man of God to make this pair one, which as master 
of ceremonies, I command to b8 done forthwith. 

Helen. Oh, is it a dream ? Is it a dream? 

Clergyman. It seems a reality, a solemn reality. 

Helen. I am but clay, mold me as you will. 

Clergyman. [To Kit.] Take her hand, sir. [They take 
positions.] Does anyone know aught why this man should 
not take this woman to be his lawful wife ; if so, let him 
now make it known or forever 

Rashes in in a loilcl frenzy, Mike. 

Mike. [Yells] Hould, hould, hould, hould ! yer riverence, 
I forbid the banns, I forbid the banns, I forbid the banns ! 
Stop it, stop it, stop it! Be the silver-tongued pipers of 
Ballymaloch will yees stop itl 

Att. Mike, Mike ! It's Mike ! [All rush forward and 
caress him ; Helen hugs him.] 

Mike. Yees are right. If this gintleman, his honor, the 
honorable Michael O'Shaughnessy, knows himself at- all, 
at- all, I'm that same, shoore. And I pledge yees me word 
and honor, the sacred honor of a gintleman of the ouldsod, 
I niver, till death do us part, want 1o be anybody else as 
lono* as yees trate me in this same affectionate manner. 

Helen. Mike, tell me, does father live ? 

Mike. Live is it, darlint ? Live ? And be the saintly 
pipers of Bonny Doon, he does then. And isn't it himself 
that's jist forninst there, waitin' for me to see if this is the 
right house, and I'm thinking I'll be telling him it is, 

Enter Corbin, Sandeval, and Agnes. 

[Exit minister , unobserved by others. 

Helen. Oh, father ! father ! [Falls in his arms. 

Corbin. My lovely daughter Helen, once more I clasp you 
to my heart ! 

Helen. What perfect bliss to be again united after those 
terrible scenes. Bat, father, where have you been all these 
sorrowful years? How long I have mourned, mourned for 
you. 

Corbin. It is a long, tedious story, that we'll talk over 
quietly after awhile. Suffice it now that 1 am safe, thanks 
to my good friend here, Sandeval. 

Hopeful. [Motions Helen aside and says to her :] Miss 
Corbin, I discovered your secret — have every thing ready. 
You will find in that room a bridal trosseau suited to your 
station, with maids waiting to dress you. Now let us see 
in the shortest space of time possible how you will look in 
the handsomest dress of the lot. 



36 A KNIGHT AND A LADY. 

Helen. Oh, noble friend, how I thank yon. I'll follow 
your wishes. [Exit. 

[ While this side play is going on, the others talk aside'; Mike 
is heard saying :] 

Mike. Yes, indade, he's a noble friend, and it's his honor, 
the honorable Michael O'Shauglmessy, late of onld Erin, 
county of Killarney, town of Killdown, and still later of 
Mexico and Central America, the divil blow 'em, that will 
remember his kindness till his dying day. 

Kit. [To Corbin\ Give us the main facts of your captivi- 
ty and escape. 

Corbin. Well, my friend Sancleval here, though engaged 
in an unlawful pursuit, yet possessed a noble and tender 
heart. The beauty, purity and truth of our fair companion 
here won that generous heart, and the robber of the pines 
reformed and became a lover and a friend. He decided on 
our release and started back to restore us to our friends at 
Pueblo. At a miner's camp we learned of your escape and 
the death of Ransome, which event was celebrated on the 
spot by the marriage of Sandeval and Agnes. — Allow me to 
present Mrs. Sandeval, gentlemen. [All shake hands icith 
Agnes.'] 

Kit. Glad to know you, madam, as the wife of so brave 
and noble a man. A man who has fought the whole world 
so bravely when in the wrong, will bring the blows of a 
Hercules when battling for the right. Happy was I to 
know you as Agnes Levannion ; happier still am I to know 
you as Mrs. Sandeval, the loved and honored wife of the 
reformed robber chief. Joy, much joy. [Kisses her hand ; . 
to Sandeval.] And to you, too, noble knight, once the ter- 
ror, now the joy and pride of the honest sons of the 
Sierras. 

Hopeful. [To Mrs. and Mr. Sandeval.] Much joy to you 
both and welcome to my house and home. I pray you that 
you will make it your own as long as you may remain in the 
city, and grace it with your presence at each returning 
visit. 

Mike. Long live her ladyship in happiness and plinty. 
And if yees ever come to the town of Killdown yees will 
meet a warm welcome from his honor, the honorable Mi- 
chael O'Shauglmessy. 

Corbin. On our way from this miner's camp to Pueblo we 
were captured by Indians, who carr ed us down through 
Mexico to Central America, where we have been in bondage 
ever since. But the out-door life and climate have given 
me health and strength, and added ten years to my life. 



A KNIGHT AND A LADY, 37 

A short time ago, the American Consul, learning there was 
a party of white people supposed to be Americans in capti- 
vity among the Indians, opened negotiations, which resulted 
in our release, and we just arrived by steamer in New York. 
On getting the American newspapers, and looking over the 
mining intelligence, Ave saw accounts of the Rising Star 
mines and the name of the Honorable Greatheart Hopeful 
as president of the company. By inquiry we readily found 
his house, and here we are. 

Kit. Romantic indeed. The furious arrival of your 
avant courier here [Motioning to Mike] broke up a very in- 
teresting little affair,the marriage of your daughter Helen and 
myself. And now that you are here in person, I, under dif- 
ferent auspices than when we last met, ask your consent to 
our union. 

Corbin. Which I not only willingly but most gladly give, 
to a man who has proved himself one of the most noble 
and honorable among men. Where is Helen ? 

Hopeful. Here she is, sir. [Leading in Helen, magnifi- 
cently dressed.] 

Corbin. And where is the holy man to make them one? 

Hopeful. He has retired till wanted. 

Mike. And, be the harps that rang through Tara's halls, 
I'll go for him. 

Corbin. Well, send for him at once, and let the marriage 
of these two noble hearts consummate the happy end of all 
our sorrows. 

Positions : Hopeful, Corbin, Helen, Kit, Agnes, Sande- 
val, Mike. [Curtain. 



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